Live A Little II
by allonsysilvertongue
Summary: It may have worked out between them but Effie and Haymitch are still two very different individuals with strong clashing personalities. Their efforts to outdo each other may be the very adhesive that strengthen their bond. Takes place between Chapter 23 and Chapter 24 of Live A Little.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Even though it's been months since I completed Live A Little, I still receive nice, sweet messages asking me to continue with the second part (thank you for it!). So after some procrastination, I managed to write out the first chapter. For anyone new, it really is advisable to read Live A Little or the Hayffie in this will not make much sense. **

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**Chapter 1**

_District Twelve,_ she smiled to herself, _never thought I'd call this place home._

Effie yawned and stretched as far as she could until someone next to her caught her wrist. She turned her head, blinking slowly as she greeted Haymitch.

"I hate sharing a bed with you," he muttered, releasing his hold on her now that he was satisfied that he managed to stop her wandering hand from hitting his face. "You're an extremely violent sleeper, you know that?"

She did know. Marcus complained about it once. But Haymitch…Well, Haymitch complained about it until his face turned blue. According to him, she tossed and turned in her sleep; elbowing his ribcage, accidentally slapping his face when she stretched or kneeing him in the middle of the night.

"Sorry," she laughed, "did I accidentally kick you again yesterday?"

Haymitch shook his head slowly, already drifting back to sleep. She kissed his stubble cheek and crawled out of bed to the bathroom. It's been a few months since the whole incident with Haymitch in the hospital and her being all hysterical because she thought he died thinking they hated each other; a few months since _the_ talk in his bedroom.

Effie was a lot happier these days and thanks to Haymitch's unconventional methods, she was more relaxed, more willing to loosen up and try new things.

She inspected herself in the bathroom mirror as she squeezed the toothpaste on her toothbrush. There were lesser fine lines under her eyes and her skin look healthier; there was a glow to it. _Could be District Twelve's weather, must be good for my skin,_ she decided.

Effie was admiring herself in the mirror as she began to brush her teeth when she suddenly went rigid. She started sputtering and choking violently. Effie spat the toothpaste into the sink. Her tongue was on fire. In fact, she felt like her entire mouth had been set ablaze. She was surprised that smoke had not started spewing out of her nose as she breathed fire. Without a thought, Effie chucked her toothbrush aside where it clattered to the floor and desperately turned on the tap. She lowered her head and began gulping large amount of water in an attempt to get rid of the burning sensation and cool her tongue.

Effie was frantically scraping her own tongue with her nails which were thankfully short that day, when the knob turned and Haymitch pushed the door quietly. She failed to notice, too caught up in her situation.

"Oh sweet heaven, it's hot," she panted. "It's hot! I'm burning. It's killing me."

She heard him snorted in derision from his position just outside the doorway. "You crying, Eff?"

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Effie was indeed crying. In her defense, it was hardly something that she could control; it was natural for her body - or anyone's for that matter – to tear up when ingesting something extremely spicy.

"What – What the hell did you put in the toothpaste?!"

"_I _put in the toothpaste? Don't go around accusing me such a thing," Haymitch replied languidly.

"Who else could it be, you insufferable bastard! Now answer the question – what's in that toothpaste?"

He smirked and unfolded his arms, stretching over to the nightstand to retrieve something from the drawer. "Glad you asked," he said, holding the bottle of hot sauce up for her to see. Haymitch looked smug and decidedly proud.

"ARE YOU INSANE? Why would you do something like that?" she demanded. She was angry with him and wanted him to know to that but it was difficult to be angry when her face was red, with tears streaming down her face. Effie breathed deeply trying to control herself. Her throat was still burning.

"You didn't swallow it, did you?" Haymitch asked.

"I didn't! If I had… If I had…" she trailed off. She buried her face on a face towel. Effie had gone slightly out of breath as she tried hard to control the pain. "Why did you do it? What did I ever do to you?"

"Let's see… Oh how about the fact that you wouldn't shut up about the toothpaste," he answered slowly. He entered the bathroom and propped his hip against the counter. "By the way, did you know, the more you drink the plain water from the tap, the worse it'll be? It'll spread the hot sauce around your tongue."

Effie slapped the tap shut and pressed the face towel on her tongue. "You – You…" she stuttered in between mouthful of cloth, "you mixed hot sauce into the toothpaste just because I told you to put the cap back on after you're done using it?"

"Yep. Here - have a beer," he handed an unopened bottle to her.

"Are you crazy?"

"Not at all," Haymitch said smoothly.

Effie gave him skeptical look but took it from his hand anyway. She took a sip from it and for a moment, she felt better, and then the burning sensation intensified.

"This doesn't help!" she exploded. Haymitch laughed in her face.

"Of course, it doesn't, sweetheart. Didn't know you're gullible enough to fall for it. Everybody knows you drink milk to cool your tongue."

"Do you have any idea how I feel right now?"

"Hot, I would imagine," he winked. Haymitch pushed himself off and closed the space between them. His hand came to rest on her waist, moments before Haymitch stooped to place a kiss on her neck.

"I'd kiss you," he murmured, "on your lips but I'd rather not have hot sauce on my mouth."

She pushed him away. "Listen here, Haymitch, and listen very, very carefully! This has – "

"No, how about _you_ listen, Effie," he interrupted, moving a step back. "This is my house. You can't move in and then act as if you own this place. You can't tell me I have to put the cover on the toothpaste tube or … or to put my dirty shirts on the laundry basket or… whatever the hell it is you're always nagging at me about. That," he waved the tube in front of her, "was the last straw. My ears are bleeding. You wouldn't shut up about it, do you even realize? You went on and on yesterday about how I should put the cap back on and then one issue led to another!"

"You asked me to move in!" she exclaimed.

"So?"

"So…" she paused, pacing the bathroom agitatedly. "I live here, too, and you can't just go on with your life as if I'm not living right here with you! My tongue hurts. Haymitch, my mouth hurts. It's so bad, it's…."

Effie moaned helplessly as she squatted in the middle of the bathroom, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

"Hot sauce in my toothpaste," she muttered, the minty flavoured toothpaste only serve to worsen the situation. "It's not even funny, Haymitch!"

His annoyance dissipated and Haymitch was in a fit of laughter as he watched Effie's antics. She alternated between putting her mouth under the running water to jumping up and down, with her hand flapping at her sides.

"It's funny to me, little dove," he smirked, "and if I think it's funny, then it sure as hell is."

"Childish," she muttered under her breath, pushing past him out of the bathroom with the sole intention of finding a tub of ice cream in the kitchen.

XxX

That evening, Effie gathered the Mellark family in Haymitch's house and they were all currently waiting for him to return home. Effie was nervous, as much as she believed that it was a good idea, she couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety building in her. Her main concern was Haymitch's reaction. She could not in all honesty predict how he would react and that was making her agitated.

As Effie sat perched on the windowsill, keeping an eye out for Haymitch, she did have second thoughts which she promptly squashed with a shake of her head. She would not back off. It needed to be done, especially, if they were to live together. It was important, in her opinion, to straighten out some issues.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him walking up the walkway towards the house. A moment later, she heard the jingle of keys as it slid into the key hole. There was a huge brown paper bag in his arm and she knew what he bought; the shipment of alcohol just arrived that morning from the Capitol.

"He's back - hurry," Effie ushered them to their positions.

Katniss and Peeta exchanged an amused glance as they moved to stand next to the fireplace. Effie shot them a disgruntled look and they were quick to school their features into a more serious expression.

"Daddy, what you doing?" Prim asked, standing dutifully next to her father.

"We're …" he looked up uncertainly at Katniss. "Remember when you did something bad and your mother gave you a very long talk about what's right and wrong?"

She nodded, her tiny brows furrowed in concentration, listening to every word her father was saying.

"Well, your Uncle Haymitch did something this morning and your Aunt Effie is going to give him a long talk. So we all get to listen."

"We," Effie corrected, "We're giving him a long talk. Quickly now, he's coming."

"Uncle 'Amit's naughty?" the little girl queried, her young mind trying to understand the situation as best as she could.

Katniss snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. "It's Haymitch, little duck," she rectified her daughter's mispronunciation for the umpteenth time.

"Amit!" she barreled towards him when she saw Haymitch walking. Prim wrapped her tiny arms around his leg.

Haymitch patted the top of her head distractedly as he studied the group in front of him. Slowly, he cocked his head to the side with a questioning look on his face. "Why are you all standing in line? You look like a bunch of fools."

Effie took a deep breath and answered his question. "Haymitch, this is an intervention."

"A what?" he arched a skeptical eyebrow.

"An intervention, Haymitch," Effie repeated. "To help you with your problems."

"Ah, you mean this?" he lifted the brown paper bag; the bottles clinked against each other.

Effie bit her lip. It was clear that Haymitch was not seeing the gravity of the situation nor taking her intervention seriously. If he was angry, at least she knew he understood what they were doing but as it were, he acted far more amuse than anything. His lips stretched into a condescending smile as he regarded them carefully.

"Too much to ask, sweetheart. You're all far more foolish than I give you credit for if you think I can just stop. Nope, not chance," he said. Turning to Prim, he nudged the girl towards her parents, "you're a Mellark, go on and stand with them. You'll take their sides when you're older anyway."

"It's not about your drinking," Peeta spoke up, helping Effie out when he saw how increasingly stressed out she was at Haymitch's flippant indifference to the whole thing.

"Oh? Do tell," he waved his hand, plopping down on the sofa. The rest of them remained standing. Katniss glanced at her companions. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing but Effie had asked, so here she was. For moral support.

"It's about your childish behaviour," Effie clarified. "It has to stop. Haymitch, you're nearly fifty years old –"

"I am not," he answered, sounding slightly petulant that Katniss stuffed a fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud. "I really am closer to forty-five than –"

"That's not the point. The point is you're a middle age man who mixed hot sauce into my toothpaste. It has to stop. These shenanigans or whatever you're calling them – no more, Haymitch. I mean it. It's snowballing out of control. I can't count the number of times I could have died from the things you pull on me."

"Congratulations on your ability to be dramatic," he retorted. "Is a drama queen born or made?"

Haymitch crackled when she threw a cushion on his face.

"I'm not joking," Effie replied shrilly. "I mean it – you need to stop!"

Haymitch cast the cushion to the side with a chuckle. "Aww, come now, little dove, we were just starting to have fun. It's just a little bit of hot sauce."

Effie ignored him and went on talking. "We have a letter to explain to you the impact your childish behavior have on each of us."

"Just Effie," Katniss quickly pointed out. "Effie's the only one with the letter. We're just here to – "

"Thank you, Katniss. Now, I'm going to read this letter out loud. Pay attention, and hopefully you'll understand the need to stop needling me each time I said something that you're not happy with."

"Save your breath," Haymitch said, pushing himself off the sofa. He plucked the piece of paper out of her hand. "I'll read it myself."

Effie gave a cry of protest but watched him critically when he unfolded the paper and scanned the contents of it. She frowned when she saw his lips quirked upwards at something he undoubtedly found amusing. Every few lines, he lifted his gaze to hers, his grey eyes twinkling with hilarity at whatever he was reading. Effie became more infuriated by the second. Finally, he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

"What'd you think, snow doll?" he asked the blonde haired girl who was watching him with her wide blue eyes. "Remember the frogs we sent to Aunt Effie? She didn't like it; didn't like your present."

"Hang on a minute!" Effie cried out. "Prim, don't listen to him. I like your … present. It was thoughtful and sweet that you wanted to give me something. But… Just next time, no animals, alright? And Haymitch, how dare you twist everything and manipulate that innocent girl to make her think _I'm _the terrible person here?"

"Daddy says you naughty," Prim told him. "Bed! Mummy makes me sleep when I make her angry."

"Excellent suggestion. It's a shame that a kid has more common sense than any of you. I'm going to bed. You wanna join, Effie?"

"We're having an intervention! You can't just – just," she sputtered incoherently. "You stay right where you are, Haymitch Abernathy, or so help me – "

"No more intervention," this time his voice was serious. "Life's simple, sweetheart. If I find you irritating, I gotta do something and I can get quite creative. But you already know that, don't you? Truth is - you're panicking. You're here in Twelve and an intervention," he mocked her, "was the only way you could think off to make me stop and therefore, to save your skin. I thought an intervention was supposed to benefit me? This is purely for your selfish well-being. Am I wrong?"

"Fine," she raised both hands in exasperation. "That's the way you want it to be, right? I don't want you to one day turn around and say I didn't offer you a way out. I offered a truce the last time and you laughed in my face and this time … Well, there'll be something for that stunt this morning. Oh, you can be sure of it! Just you wait."

Effie glared at him and when all he did was gave a shrug of his shoulders, Effie huffed dramatically. She turned towards Peeta and Katniss, thank them for coming, bend to kiss Prim on her head and without a second look at Haymitch, Effie marched up the stairs. He heard the door closed upstairs and bolted shut. Effie had just locked him out of his own bedroom.

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**I hope the beginning's satisfactory! I have exams coming in mid-November and after that, I will try to give a weekly update. From now till mid-Nov, there are no promises on such a timely update. **

**Do review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Haymitch thought that something should have already happened to him one month after Effie's unsuccessful intervention. But there had been nothing so far which led him to wonder if Effie might have forgotten about it. That was rather impossible considering how seething mad she was after he mocked her effort at an intervention and of course, there was her promise of a payback for the hot sauce stunt he pulled on her. He had to admit, he was restless and jumpy the following couple of days after her intervention but the longer the days went on with no suspicious sign of revenge, the more he began to relax.

_She's biding her time,_ he told himself each time he felt himself lulled into a sense of security. It was important that he kept his senses sharp, just in case.

Being in a relationship with Effie was akin to being thrown into the deep end of the sea and expected to swim safely to shore without a life buoy. It was nerve-wrecking but strangely exciting at the same time. He wouldn't actually call what they have a relationship, although to be quite honest, he had no idea what to make of their situation. He never knew any one, married or not, who had the sort of _thing_ he had with Effie. Was it even a normal part of a relationship to needle her to her wit's end and then spend the rest of the month waiting anxiously in case she did something in return?

_Why did I even ask her to move in?_

He couldn't remember asking her. It was all a blur to him but he knew how alone and bored he felt when she returned home to the Capitol and wasn't with him in Twelve. It happened during one of her visit to Twelve, she was all curled up like a cat on the armchair in front of the fireplace, lamenting to him that the thunderstorm was deterring her from going back. Haymitch had just finished draining her last vestige of vodka from the bottle and had mumbled something to her. He couldn't remember exactly what he said except that it was met with a long contemplative silence from Effie. The next thing he knew, she was making arrangements to have her things moved in. When he asked, she had given him an incredulous look, "you asked me to move in two days ago, remember?"

He didn't, naturall, but he wasn't foolish enough to incur her wrath otherwise. Besides, how bad could it be having her around? His house was large; there was enough room to avoid each other if she became too overbearing.

XxX

Haymitch deposited the paper bag on the counter and began taking out his monthly supply of liquor from it. Now that Effie was living with him and couldn't be the one to send expensive liquor from the Capitol to him anymore, she had made arrangements with the store owner so that each month without fail, a crate of his favourite spirits would be delivered straight to his door step. That didn't stop him from making a trip to the Town Centre to purchase those hard liquors brewed by one of the residents in Twelve that would make non-seasoned drinker like Effie very drunk, very fast.

Nowadays, Haymitch was not that dependant on the alcohol like he was during the Games of the following few months after the Rebellion when his memories were dark and haunting, and he needed it to keep on functioning day by day. Lately, he only truly needed it during the occasional bout of downtime he had which involved terrible nightmares on a particularly bad days but things were progressively better. Maybe it was because Effie was there or because there were no more Games to remind him of his terrible past anymore. In any case, Haymitch drank because that was all he had ever done and all that he knew how to do, really.

"Hello," Effie greeted jovially, entering the kitchen and ducking under his arms so that she was between him and the counter behind her.

"Move, Effs, can't you see I'm occupied at the moment," he muttered distractedly.

"It's nice to see you, too. How was your day, Effie? It's fine, Haymitch, thanks for asking," she waved her hands around as she carried on the mock conversation.

He chuckled, resting his hands on the counter, trapping her where she was. "You're doing a good job conversing with yourself, little dove," he teased, dropping a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Hmmm," she hummed, her fingers tugging on the collar of his shirt as her tongue skimmed his bottom lip. "I don't even need you around for it."

Haymitch responded to the kiss but she was quick to pull away, twisting out of his reach. "You know," she began, "if you take the same amount of effort you put to arranging your liquors to cleaning after your own mess, it would make me very happy."

"And why would I make you happy, eh? That's not my job, is it?"

Effie pursed her lips and eyed the bottles in the cabinet with a thoughtful look on her face, a look he definitely did not like.

XxX

"You coming?" he peered into the room where Effie was.

Effie shook her head. "No, you two have fun! And don't bring home any toads or frogs!"

He left the room, laughing quietly to himself, beckoning for Prim to follow him. The little girl struggled with the wide brim hat his father had insisted she wore, running after Haymitch in her tiny legs.

"Can we go to the playground, Amit?"

"Haymitch," he corrected her absentmindedly. "I thought you wanted to go to the pond?"

"Can we go both?"

He wanted to say no but the girl was looking at him with her huge round eyes and he found himself unable to disagree. Prim avoided the frogs altogether, her distaste for them still apparent in the way she frowned when she came across one those amphibians. She waddled towards the ducklings, cooing after them and asking him if it was alright for her to keep one.

"Don't think so, snow doll. You can play with my goslings," he suggested.

Her brows furrowed and Haymitch sensing a temper tantrum was about to erupt quickly ushered her towards the playground, some ten minutes' walk away. It was new and since the novelty had not yet rubbed off, the place was crowded with children of different ages running around, shouting after one another. Prim waited patiently for her turn on the swing and when she got on, she looked at Haymitch pointedly, the way only a toddler could. Sighing, he walked over and began pushing her gently on the swing.

"Higher!"

"You'll fall off," he explained patiently.

"Higher," she demanded still.

"Never thought I'd ever see you in a scene like this," Hazelle Hawthorne smiled at him.

"Hazelle," he turned and greeted his old housekeeper. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting. I still have friends here in Twelve. So this is Katniss' daughter," she remarked.

"Yes," he nodded.

Despite her parents' notorious fame, Prim and Finn had been kept relatively safe from the limelight. Plutarch had given a directive to all media and communications companies in Panem that no photographs of any of the victor's children are to be printed and distributed in any medium without clearance from the Department of Communications which he was in-charge of. The only instance Prim made it to the front page news was during the announcement of her birth in which both Katniss and Peeta had allowed one picture of her to be taken and printed.

"If it wasn't for her hair and eyes, I would have thought she was your daughter, the way you treat her. You're good with children, Haymitch. Who would have thought?" she teased.

"I have my moments," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Is there a rule to say I'm not allowed here?" he joked.

"Of course not," she shook her head. "I thought that since your house is having a garage sale you would be at home or… is your… um is Miss Trinket doing that on her own? Clearing your old stuffs, I reckon."

"A what?"

"A sale? Isn't there…Here," she handed a piece of paper, creased and rumpled into his hand.

Haymitch smoothened out the paper and gaped at the contents. His eyes flickered up to Hazelle who was watching him carefully. He snapped his mouth shut, clenching his jaw and breathing deeply through his nose, trying to regulate his emotions.

"Prim! We're going home, right now."

"But I want to play!"

"Now," he said, plucking the girl effortlessly and with a nod towards Hazelle, he made the trek home.

XxX

Haymitch swung by the bakery to drop Prim off. If Effie was really selling off his things, the situation was bound to be ugly and the poor kid did not have to witness it. As if being there for the intervention wasn't bad enough, she'd probably grow up with memories of it and he was sure at some point in her life she would bring it up much to his embarrassment.

As he neared his house, Haymitch came across at least three prettily decorated signs on a wooden pole reaching up to his waist which Effie had buried into the ground at intervals. He pulled and twisted them until they came free and tucked those signs under his arms, muttering and cursing under his breath.

The moment he passed the archway with the big bold lettering that welcome visitors to Victor's Village, he could see a crowd gathering at his front yard. Most of them were familiar to him, people he had seen at the bar.

A man with a pot belly and thick moustache walked up to him with a big smile on his face and a huge paper bag under his arm.

"Good haul, Haymitch," he lifted his hand in greeting. "Finally turning your back on all of us, eh?"

"Get out, Bob," Haymitch muttered. Bob laughed and with a wave of his hand, turned the corner towards the town centre.

He saw Effie standing behind a makeshift table, talking enthusiastically to a "customer". She glanced briefly at him when she saw him stalking towards her but the smile never faded from her face. He stopped directly in front of her and slammed the piece of paper Hazelle had given him on the wooden table.

"Is there a problem?" she arched an eyebrow. "Oh, please don't stop on his account. Go on browsing and sample those drinks. Buy the ones you like! There's more where that came from! The geese are at the back - feel free."

"What are you doing?" he hissed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see people pouring drinks on plastic cups Effie had provided, tasting and trying out the assortment of liquors Effie had put on display. Some of them seemed positively delighted to taste something from the Capitol which was hard to come by in their district and had taken full advantage by pouring cups after cups of it. Effie didn't seem to mind that some of those people were not making any purchases. It was a different story with Haymitch, though. The anger in him built and bubbled as he watched his precious drinks being consumed without a care.

"Being an entrepreneur," she grinned. "I think I'm pretty good at this – almost a natural, wouldn't you say, my sweet?"

"Stop this," he commanded. "How many of my alcohol have you sold?"

"I don't take orders from you," she said sweetly. "Oh hey! Aren't you a little too young to be trying those drinks?"

"Miss Trinket, I'll have this one-" Haymitch and Effie swivelled towards the voice to see a short, plump woman holding Haymitch's fattest goose in her arms. "- I'll make a nice dinner for my family. How much?"

"Oh, don't you worry about the price, my dear. Just pay me what you can afford," Effie said diplomatically.

"That's mine!" Haymitch shouted. "Give it back. It's not for sale!"

She held the goose away from Haymitch, her eyes darting back and forth between Haymitch and Effie. "There's a sign – the geese and the alcohol are for sale. And I caught this one, so I'm buying it."

"That goose is not for sale. Nothing's for sale here!" he said through gritted teeth. "GET OUT. Whatever you've taken, you put it back right now and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Haymitch's eyes were wide with anger as he spun wildly around, shouting at the affronted customers and rudely plucking the fat goose out of the woman's grip. He chased them all out even those at the backyard, looking at his geese with interest. Behind him, Effie pressed a hand to her mouth, laughing at the scene before her, at how livid Haymitch was.

"He is deranged," the woman declared.

"He is," Effie nodded in between laughter.

"Is that a goose egg you're holding?" Haymitch rounded up on one of the customers. "Give it to me!"

Effie sat on the top step on the front porch, with her chin resting on her hand as she watched Haymitch chasing everyone out of his property, curses and threats flying out of his mouth. He stood by the front gate with his hands propped on his hips, glaring at everyone's retreating back until they were out of his sight.

"Did you like my flyers and the signs I put up?" she called out. To wound him further, she added, "what a way to be remembered by everyone here in Twelve, Haymitch. You could have treated them nicely."

"Shut up," he snapped, marching into the house, acutely aware of Effie following him. He went straight to his alcohol cabinet. It was empty. "Trinket! Did you sell it all? Everything?"

"I think so. Nothing left?"

"No, there's nothing," he rubbed his forehead in agitation.

"Then yes, I must have sold it all which explains why I have made so much profit," she exclaimed delightedly, spilling all the money she made that day on the kitchen table. Haymitch eyed it distastefully.

"You're terrible, you know that?"

Effie broke into fresh fit of laughter. "Force into sobriety, exciting, isn't it?"

"My geese!" Haymitch exclaimed suddenly, running out the backdoor to the geese pen. He began counting them and when the numbers didn't add up, he counted again.

"I'm missing two," he mumbled to himself.

"Someone's probably bought it already," Effie told him helpfully.

Effie jumped back in surprise when Haymitch gave a strangled cry of frustration and pushed passed her.

"Don't talk to me," he barked at her.

"Really? Really, _don't talk to me?_ What are you – 14 years old?"

XxX

"Haymitch," she shook his shoulder. "Hey, come on, turn around. Are you still mad?"

"Mad is putting is rather mildly," he said, still refusing to look at her. He felt the bed dip as Effie moved about and then he saw a bottle of whiskey in front of his eyes.

"I lied – I didn't sell it all. I saved one for you," she dangled the bottle temptingly in front of him.

He turned, lying flat of his back, taking the bottle from her. "Now, please tell me you hid two of my geese somewhere in this house."

Effie grimaced. "Sorry, no," she shook her head.

"Damn it, Effie," he cursed. "It took a lot of effort to raise them, are you aware of that? Just because you don't like my choice of pets, it doesn't give you the right to -"

"Effort? All you did was leave them to their loud, obnoxious self in the back and feed them every other day. How difficult could it be?"

"You don't understand," he said, pushing himself up. "What's your favourite pet?"

"A cat," she answered spontaneously. "Why?"

"I'll get you a cat and you raise it, and we'll see how much effort it takes."

"There's no logic. Taking care of a cat and a flock of geese is essentially two very different –"

Haymitch was pushing her back against the mattress, his lips doing wonderful things to her neck. "While I won't forgive you for what you did today, I can think of how you can make it up to me in the interim."

"Admit it," she giggled, pushing him away slightly to look at him. "This was definitely better than hot sauce in tooth paste. That was pathetic."

"It wasn't that pathetic when you were crying on the bathroom floor, little dove. I'm giving you fair warning, sweetheart, you better watch that pretty back of yours from now on."

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**Thank you for your reviews in the previous chapter! Don't forget to leave one for this, too :) Thanks for reading.**


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